As we begin to move out of lockdown today's session shared the body scan practice, an excellent way to explore irrational angst and quite simply check in with yourself. Adrienne led with the Anna Faulds poem "Settle in the here and now"
The writing prompt was inspired by a BBC documentary, part of the In Our Time series, about
Click the link (or search the iplayer) to listen to the full article but please be aware that the full programme is intense. Our writing context drew on this political philosopher's discussion of the the division of our lives into
LABOUR WORK ACTION
in particular Arendt's description of ACTION as the process of revealing
WHO we are as opposed to WHAT we are. Although she categorises writing in as work it is striking to note how lockdown has stifled our opportunity to be with people, express ourselves and so manifest our uniqueness. Creative writing is an antidote to this.
From William Stafford's poem Ask Me we had a choice of the following prompts:
what the river says, that is what I say
what the river says, that is what I say
or
I will listen to what you say
Thanks to you all
again for such heartening feedback; here is the chat transcript from the end of the session:
- Thank you Bev, Adrienne and everyone, what a fantastic session. I found the body scan very challenging to my limited powers of concentration! Everyone’s writing is so good to hear. Can I ask, is it just poetry or is it ok to share other kinds of writing too? Thanks
- (No it is not – any writing is fine)
- Enormously enjoyed whole session. Thank you all.
- Thank you all for a lovely session.
- thankyou to everyone for such a wonderful session of mindfulness writing and sharing kx
- Thank you both for another wonderful session!
- Thank you, that was great.
- apologies if distracted any of you with my in and out but huge thank you again Adrienne and bev - wonderful time
- Thanks to all for guidance and words this morning.
- Really enjoyed the session. Such talented writers.
- Thank you Bev and Adrienne for another wonderful session. The mindfulness practice followed by the writing is a perfect way to spend two hours at the end of a busy week. Now I'm all zen for the weekend
Tune in to the breath, ice and rivers of your life
by Sandra Walls
In the depths of the Highlands in winter, I walk along the icy stoney shore. As my feet crunch along, Seals look up and scratch their heads, and I watch steam rise from their pouting nostrils.
I smile. Loving watching them just be who they are. I’m watching the truth.
I’m not cold but wrapped up in a wax coat and boots, hat and fur-collared hood.
My breath as soon as its out turns to ice and droplets fall.
The river is iced and flat, hues of white, blues and greys are it’s landscaped palette; and it speaks to me in several ways.
The frost and unseen waters in tune with me, I think back to memories of childhood, skating on the local Hogganfield loch, not allowed, but not manned, so we did it anyway.
In summer the sailboats from the clubs skirted through the blue water that lopped tiny waves onto the small beach. And you sat and watched as the little wooden rowers splashed owers slowly around the Swan’s colony island.
Now under the Highland ice topped loch is the cold dense dark cold cold water, where Salmon, Trout and unknown names of brown fish and others live. This is my teenage years, not quite in control of my own life, where people not of my choice stay and others hover in and out. And through trust, get more freedom to make my own choices - not always good ones, but learn’ed ones.
The hot controlled breaths I take are my adulthood and I discover my control inside myself and take the reins of my life. Getting rid of the clutter of people that suck life from your marrow. Taking more and leave you so week you can barely breathe on your own.
Suffering no more fools my mum was my nebuliser and let me breathe deeply again, for nothing in return; And with no close freezing rivers to paddle - served me with an effervescent iced drink to refresh my soul and encouraged me to live again.
And I do.
by Kate Henry
I will listen to what you say by Sandra Birnie
Yes of course I will listen to you. No I’m not so bound up in my own importance that I can’t listen. When you speak I notice. Just speak. Don’t accuse. Don’t attack. Don’t judge. But if you can just speak. I will listen. I want to know but you block me with these arrows, this torrent of arrows and spikes that pin me down and frighten me. I can’t listen when I’m afraid. Just speak. Be gentle. Let me listen. Let me hear. I want to hear but your eyes won’t let me in. Just speak. Be calm. Be clear. Like a pool not a torrent in a river. Let me hear. Let me in. With your calm and my brave listening we will connect. We will make ripples together in the pool of our understanding. We will be still together. We will reflect and let the dragonflies dream above us.
Ask me by Kath Higgens
Ask me if what I have done is my life,
and I will answer emphatically "no!".
I have followed the river,
now I am turned to ice,
now bubbling and seething.
Now I am searching for the source,
now floundering, too deep to survive.
But what I know is this:
my life has carried me, supported me,
even when underwater, even when drowning.
Because I am here, now.
My essence is alive.
I am not what I have done,
I am who I am.
I will listen to what you say
by Joyce Nicholson
I will listen to what you say, using Hannah’s wise words,
In listening, we need to look back to our ’collective forgotten treasure’,
Carrying with us the ‘banality of evil’.
Our freedoms have been impinged – historically,
and we have witnessed uprisings of power and potential,
pointing to the fragility of neoliberal capitalism and that Black Lives Matter.
In regaining and reclaiming freedom,
we must listen with open-hearted generosity and compassion,
listen with minds and hearts unspoilt, to the freedom of representation,
with stillness and peace.
Let’s Praxis, together, us, collectively. This is power.